tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33538197179147611482024-03-13T22:16:48.696-07:00Allons-y!Living life for the stories.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-66827844962074595532015-03-31T17:22:00.002-07:002015-03-31T17:22:57.960-07:00The halfway point<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today marks the second day of the new module. <br />
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Spring break went by really fast, and I didn't do half of what I wanted to. It was a lot work and catching up on things I had dropped to finish up for finals. Mainly professional linked projects, so it didn't feel like a break at all. Aside from my museum day. Hello indoor rainforest. And cool aquarium. I got kissed by an abalone. <br />
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But what a final wrap up for Mod B!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xEnTUWaJm1s/VRs5J2TZkDI/AAAAAAAACmk/eqbWBpu0vP8/s1600/20150317_095137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xEnTUWaJm1s/VRs5J2TZkDI/AAAAAAAACmk/eqbWBpu0vP8/s1600/20150317_095137.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our mock ads</td></tr>
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I remember thinking at the end of the last presentation how amazing it was to present an advertising campaign to agency representatives. My team and I did research, developed a concept around our findings, and then created a message. We also developed and presented a prototype, built a business plan around it. This is in addition to coming up with a PR campaign to prevent China from acquiring a company our client liked. <br />
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Our post mod karaoke night was much deserved. <br />
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And now it seems like Mod C is even more intense. I've only had the one class so far, and there's no team project, but the prof makes me feel like I've learned nothing the past six classes with all the information he packs into a lecture. Its overwhelming, this is the first time I've ever had to debrief with a classmate after a lecture, but so good to know. (Thought it's a little scary how he said he deals with more numbers as a salesman than he used to as an accountant.)<br />
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Alumni mentioned things really picked up in Mod C, but I never suspected it to be this extreme! Still, it's exciting.</div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-67676899621415441392015-02-18T19:29:00.000-08:002015-02-18T19:29:18.936-08:00From the Redwood Forests<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This past weekend was full of stuff, going out three times is a lot for little introvert me. But I'm glad I did it all. The best outing, hands down, was driving out to <a href="http://www.parks.ca.gov/bigbasin/">Big Basin</a>.<br />
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A friend and I had the spontaneous decision to rent a car and go, only to not be able to fill up seats like we had hoped. But that's okay, my roomie hopped in the back seat and off we went!<br />
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Just the driving part was an adventure of itself - slowly getting used to it since I haven't done it regularly in years - because roads were twisty, uphill, and narrow. Still, in the little Kia we rented it was fun to hug the corners and wonder just how long a curve ran.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eFMcRyAVLWg/VOVSGxx0RPI/AAAAAAAAAPM/eWxYL2UemCo/s1600/10981869_10200619120756255_3579160552948604263_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Redwood trail sign post at Big Basin park." border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eFMcRyAVLWg/VOVSGxx0RPI/AAAAAAAAAPM/eWxYL2UemCo/s1600/10981869_10200619120756255_3579160552948604263_n.jpg" height="200" title="" width="150" /></a>The park was beautiful. I've always wanted to see the redwoods, and unlike Muir Woods near the city Big Basin has some old growth trees. That means these things are larger than those at Muir and that alone made it worth the almost two hour trip to me.<br />
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These trees are impressive, we never saw one all the way to the top, and I could easily fit in one. There are stories of frontier cabins being entirely built from one tree. I went around hugging several trees, just for the novelty. Sure, there are some outside of my apartment but they're no where near as wide as 50ft. Or 300 ft tall. <br />
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After three hours of hiking, up a to an ocean view and then back down, we headed to Santa Cruz twenty minutes away. I was blown away by the boardwalk - rollercoasters, carnival food, games. Downtown SF can get busy during lunch, but this was visually busy thanks to the lights and colors. Still, it was cool to see. I haven't been in any type of carnival setting for years, and while it was a bit overwhelming (but I'm getting used to dealing with that now) it was also a breathe of fresh air. Something new. Something different. </div>
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We grabbed food and ate it on the beach and boy was that another novelty. I got some smiles from my travel mates as I wiggled my toes in the sand. My roomie's from Thailand, she sees sand all the time, but I couldn't help but touch it. </div>
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Still waiting to see snow since my return.</div>
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I'm so glad we got out of the city, even for a day. SF is growing on me, it's true, but nothing refreshes you like a mentally stimulating trip into nature. Just getting away from what I see in a daily basis is nice and doing it with friends is amazing. </div>
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com1Big Basin Redwoods State Park, 21600 Big Basin Way, Boulder Creek, CA 95006, USA37.1806032 -122.225336936.9781182 -122.5480604 37.3830882 -121.9026134tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-66333010567376126572015-01-24T11:52:00.000-08:002015-01-24T11:52:31.103-08:00CashFlow Adventure<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My roomie has been talking about CashFlow for awhile, not the game so much as a weekly get together of it she was introduced to. She kept saying it was about business practices, I likened it to an advanced Monopoly, and finally went to a session last night.<br />
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It's not like Monopoly at all.<br />
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And...apparently CashFlow is a super famous game in the business world. As is the book (which is actually titled <a href="http://www.richdad.com/About/Robert-T-Kiyosaki.aspx">Rich Dad, Poor Dad</a> and I'm sure a lot of you have heard of that). Silly me for not knowing this prior to showing up.<br />
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It was an interesting game for sure - you play with a balance sheet that gave me flashback to my accounting class. And as one player mentioned before we got started, it really is a simulation for life and the money flow of it. You start in the Rat Race, giving time for a monthly paycheck and waiting for opportunities to come your way. Opportunities like stock at a good price, foreclosed houses, limited partnership in a business. Slowly, slowly, you build up passive income to the point where it can pay for your expenses, and then you're in the fast lane! At which point, if you land on a gold mine most people think 'eh, why not?' and buy it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pwudf4HZ0qM/VMP1gloooBI/AAAAAAAAAOo/i9QW5jcXJe0/s1600/Cashflow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pwudf4HZ0qM/VMP1gloooBI/AAAAAAAAAOo/i9QW5jcXJe0/s1600/Cashflow.jpeg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.meetup.com/CASHFLOW-Tournaments-Lets-get-out-of-the-Rat-Race-together/">Source</a></td></tr>
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We played in teams and that was interesting in and of itself. She was a bit...more risky then me. I was not ready to take out as many loans as we did, but things worked out. We didn't get to the fast lane by the end of the game (this group plays with a strict time limit - 3 hrs) but we were super close.<br />
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It was an interesting group of people. I wasn't the youngest, our host's daughter was there, and half of the people playing have a lot of investing under their belts already. Business owners, millionaires, life coaches, new investors, old investors. <br />
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This is a weekly thing the group has been playing for a year, a three hour game followed by a debrief of however long it takes, and there's a lot of talk about how this game has changed their thinking about real world investments and how well the real world is reflected in it. All very interesting, and it's cool to see elements of what I'm learning reflected in both the game and the stories they tell.<br />
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I'm looking forward to the next time I can play. </div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-4330430176872913762015-01-14T11:50:00.001-08:002015-01-14T11:50:54.127-08:00Homecoming of a Sort<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, I've been back in San Francisco for roughly a week now. And one of the odd things was walking back to class last Monday I realized I had missed it.<br />
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I mean, sorta. It wasn't like I was sitting around in Detroit missing the Bay, but once I was here I found myself giving the Ferry Building a fond look as I walked by. Which, honestly, was a surprise to me. Because when I first got here, I pretty much hated the city. It didn't click with me, despite people telling me I'd love it, and while the weather is certainly nice I feel like I could have the stuff I have here for cheaper elsewhere. There's nothing, well, <i>special</i> about SF in my mind to say this was a good city to live in.<br />
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But then of course, I have to leave and realize that yeah, okay, maybe I do like this little city. And my roomies who like to sit and talk, and teammates who can't help but smile every time I hiccup, and classes this Mod that are simply a~mazing. <br />
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What also struck me coming back, or maybe rather when I was loading the car to go to the airport, was that this is the first time I where I can't say when I'll be back.<br />
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In undergrad, it was for pretty much every holiday and break. And even when I went off to Ethiopia I knew that come August 2014 I'd be back in Detroit for a decent stretch. Then for grad school I knew I'd be back for Christmas, but now....now....<br />
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I honestly can't say. I'm not planning on flying out there for Easter. Or my March break. Or even, most likely, after graduation. That, that was it. A side hug in the back hallway from my mom, my brother in the basement on the couch, my sister loading her own car, my dad giving me a hug before handing me my suitcase at the terminal.<br />
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Can you call someplace home, even internally and as one of two or three, if you may not see it for years? Is this that first step towards only seeing siblings every five years for family reunions? Will I now see my immediate family as often as I see cousins? I'm not sure I'm ready for that, I missed two years of us all home for school holidays. I already went a long time without seeing my family, it might be a little too soon to do that again. (Though granted, this time I can call them once a week, send texts every day. It makes a huge, huge difference). We didn't even take a family Christmas photo that I could have printed to stick on my wall. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9XScksMxe0/VLbHjogoSuI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/WX7bYQUMtbc/s1600/284619_243589958993979_4638428_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9XScksMxe0/VLbHjogoSuI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/WX7bYQUMtbc/s1600/284619_243589958993979_4638428_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tried to find my most recent family photo, and all I could find was this of all the cousins in the summer of 2011. Man, people have gotten married since then.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Sometimes, often, being an adult super sucks. And is depressing. And well, makes me regret I said no playing that one night of cards, or didn't sneak into my sister's bed to snuggle with her, or see Yiayia one extra time.<br />
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Gah.<br />
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I guess at this point, all I can do is go forward and make sure I take as big as steps as possible. If I'm far away, I better be happy and successful to make it worth it. Dean's List every mod, aggressive job searching, here I come!</div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-36227809281164443702015-01-01T15:30:00.000-08:002015-01-01T15:30:12.619-08:00Holiday De-Briefing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I feel like a lot has happened in such a short period of time, so I'm gonna blow through events trying to get my head around them.<br />
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1) Christmas</h3>
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Celebrations in Ethiopia were...pretty mild. There's no large build up, no light up snowflakes on lampposts, wreaths on store fronts, carols in stores. It's all in your head, and in hindsight I think I held onto that Christmas idea hard because it was from<i> home </i>and <i>America</i>, so the day comes, you have dinner with friends, and that's it. No one around you is even celebrating, because the <a href="http://allonsy-ethiopia.blogspot.com/2013/01/celebrating-christmas-twice.html" target="_blank">dates are different</a>. </div>
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I had expected, coming back, for Christmas to be a big deal again. But it wasn't. Maybe it's because I didn't have decorations in my apartment, or maybe because it didn't feel that special anymore now that everyone was celebrating. Or perhaps it was the fact that I wasn't excited for the holiday, but rather going home and seeing family.</div>
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I'm probably gonna peg some of it on displaced traditions too. I didn't decorate a tree this year. The stocking I've had since my first Christmas had been replaced while I was gone. I didn't bake any cookies - my sister had taken up the 'baker' position of family when I left and so all the tupperware containers were filled by the time I landed in DTW. </div>
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It was another sign of how my family has adopted to my absence, of things that have happened while I was gone that I missed.</div>
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But back to Christmas. It felt like just a normal day, except for presents and the mass of people who ate around the dining room table. I enjoyed it, immensely, but I didn't have that magical feeling of Christmas I can recall having a few years ago. Maybe that is PC's doing, maybe it's just growing up cuz if I had to pick a year where I was most filled with the Christmas Spirit it would have to be sophomore year of high school.</div>
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2) Up North</h3>
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We took a family vacation up north for a weekend to ski. Except, our ski day got rained out. That was a first. But still, it was a nice couple of nights. We had no signal, so we played a lot of games and did a lot of reading. It was nice, and I think helped reconnect us after not really having isolated family time in years.</div>
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Plus, it was fun to have them comment on the rustic nature of the trip and then share stories of my much worse situations. <i>Oh no! The hot water tanks is only so big? We'll just have to heat water in the kettle and wash up with that and a wash cloth. Trust me, it's easy.</i> </div>
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It was also interesting because of the drinking. My parents have been giving us wine glasses at dinner since 16, but this year we were all 21. Dinners out included rounds of drinks. Card games were played over liquor. I love my parents, but they've always been that. Parents. Figures who controlled my life through chores, allowances, and rules. But that weekend, I feel we were all on equal footing and it was a nice change of pace. It had at one point morphed from 'hanging with the family' to 'hanging with fun people'. </div>
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Don't get me wrong, I have for the most part enjoyed my family. But I suddenly realized that there are times I would <i>elect</i> to do actives with them instead of nearby friends. I feel like we all have more to contribute, a more balanced relationship now that we're (by which I mean us children) all older. </div>
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<b>3) RPCV meet-up</b></div>
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I'm lucky I know a guy in SF who's an Ethiopian RPCV. Because, I'll be honest, I haven't been able to really click with anyone in that town - school or otherwise. I'm not entire sure if its cuz I haven't meet any other geeks, or something during my service changed how I relate to new people.</div>
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It actually was a common topic that came up at a mini reunion for a few MI RPCVs from G7. Things happened, events and feelings and thought shifts, that can make it hard to relate. Who else understands how you still marvel at everyday things once in awhile, who understands what's it like to live in a foreign culture and how dealing with that for years changes how you do, who gets it that you sometimes feel guilty and wrong because now that you're back in America you recall Ethiopian events and are slightly ashamed at how you adjusted, even if at the time it most likely made your life better?</div>
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We all had the same problem with Christmas, we all have the same problem finding people in our new cities to 'click' with, we all desperately miss each other, we all are frustrated about how people don't really want to hear about Ethiopia, about how they don't understand how much it has changed view points, and we all can't believe the attitude of people who have never left their corner of a state. </div>
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Regardless, it was just nice to see old friends that I can connect to on a level that I haven't found in other people in while. What's that saying, something about friendships founded in battle are the strongest? Not saying our Peace Corps service was a battle in the traditional sense, but I would say our experiences there brought us together two years ago and I'm super glad we were able to do it again this holiday season.</div>
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Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-41200607357403119782014-12-12T11:56:00.000-08:002014-12-12T11:56:20.567-08:00I've survived the Pineapple Express!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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What exactly is the Pineapple Express? Apparently it's a non-technical
term for a weather condition, but most recently it's the name of the
storm that hit (is still hitting?) California. Some areas of the
state got hit pretty bad.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a.abcnews.com/images/US/ap_california_storm_2_lb_141211_mn_4x3_992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://a.abcnews.com/images/US/ap_california_storm_2_lb_141211_mn_4x3_992.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://abcnews.go.com/US/california-braces-mudslides-pineapple-express-storm/story?id=27550370">ABC news - Healdsburg, CA</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mashable.com/2014/12/11/pineapple-express-storm-bay-area/">Mashable - Berkeley, CA</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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Thankfully here in the city (or at least, the city parts I went through
yesterday) there weren't a whole lot of problems. I mean, sure, I woke up
at 8:30 to rain, fell asleep at 2am to rain, and woke up at 10:30 to a
drizzle still falling. But I didn't run into giant puddles. I didn't see
any flooding. It wasn't even raining that hard, traffic was normal. The
biggest concern was power, so many districts were out. Except my little
corner of the city. Not even for a second to cause blinking clocks. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mIA6qO4-lR4/VItCgtIA8yI/AAAAAAAAANM/2jfDrlrGid8/s1600/IMG_0625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mIA6qO4-lR4/VItCgtIA8yI/AAAAAAAAANM/2jfDrlrGid8/s1600/IMG_0625.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Huruta Rain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And yet, school was closed and my teammates complained and wanted to cancel our meeting to finish up final projects. I get it. All the hype made them nervous. And I had forgotten at first, but many people have different expectations of rain.<br />
<br />
When I lived in Wellington, it was always long, strong storms with wind so fierce it snapped my umbrella before I walked a block. In Huruta, it was a few hours of harsh rain that resulted in traffics (human, animal, and car) to stop, muddy rivers, and I used to walk with my umbrella angled into the wind so much it wasn't uncommon for a lot of my body to be out from under it. <br />
<br />
Some of my classmates saw this storm as a lot of rain, even though from my end it was pretty tame.<br />
<br />
You always think about cultural differences hanging out with international students, or just ex-pats. But you rarely think of environmental differences aside from 'Norway is cold, so you must be warm here' or 'I can tell you're missing India's weather by your three layers'. But there's other things too, like rain, or even walking speed, crossing streets and taxi desirability that all comes not from the culture you were raised in, but your environment. I need to remember that before rolling my eyes when someone freaks out about what to do with a fridge with no power.<br />
<br />
After all, I wasn't always a pro about going three days without electricity. (Thanks for that Huruta.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-b140_sZTs/VItFzsrKzwI/AAAAAAAAANY/x0EFo9WBEYA/s1600/2014-12-11%2B16.50.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-b140_sZTs/VItFzsrKzwI/AAAAAAAAANY/x0EFo9WBEYA/s1600/2014-12-11%2B16.50.36.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SF rain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-25683299593675670062014-12-03T10:34:00.004-08:002014-12-03T10:34:39.074-08:00Thanksgiving<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's a little late to go into details about the holiday and how it was a little weird being back in America and missing people. So I'll just give you a bunch of photos ^_^<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jYaB9FoKR4c/VH9O2n9e9KI/AAAAAAAAAMc/9-uzCL6pEbc/s1600/IMG-20141127-WA0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jYaB9FoKR4c/VH9O2n9e9KI/AAAAAAAAAMc/9-uzCL6pEbc/s1600/IMG-20141127-WA0012.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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This is the boat I spent the holiday on.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xg5U7X8UqIE/VH9O3LxryNI/AAAAAAAAAMg/kn-1Jz7tzUY/s1600/IMG-20141127-WA0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xg5U7X8UqIE/VH9O3LxryNI/AAAAAAAAAMg/kn-1Jz7tzUY/s1600/IMG-20141127-WA0018.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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We kayaked around the marina and came pretty close to some seals. As in, maybe two paddle lengths.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RgSj37v_8b0/VH9O1pCFyoI/AAAAAAAAAMs/QWBgl_yWG4M/s1600/IMG-20141127-WA0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RgSj37v_8b0/VH9O1pCFyoI/AAAAAAAAAMs/QWBgl_yWG4M/s1600/IMG-20141127-WA0014.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Dinner! Since it was just two of us (me and roomie) we just grilled turkey parts instead of cooking a full one.</div>
</div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-73209115567190074872014-11-22T22:02:00.001-08:002014-11-22T22:02:48.274-08:00Mockingjay Viewpoints<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, Thursday night I went to see Mockingjay.<br />
<br />
(And would have totally posted about it yesterday, but you know, work. And fireworks. )</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/HF08o5mi57A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
Anyway.<br />
<br />
A bunch of us from school decided to go, do that whole sit against the wall and chill for two hours before opening type of deal.<br />
<br />
I was decently excited for the movies. I read the books and hadn't been super impressed. The first one was interesting (even if I was reminded of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_Royale" target="_blank">Battle Royale plot</a>), the second very similar to the first, and the third, well Katniss wasn't super passive, but nor was she amongst the most important part of the world's action. I felt like things were seen from the side and from far away.<br />
<br />
The movies though, they seemed to be getting better. I attribute a lot of that to Jennifer Lawrence, <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cdn02.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/headlines/2014/09/jennifer-lawrence-katniss-mockingjay-poster-reveal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn02.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/headlines/2014/09/jennifer-lawrence-katniss-mockingjay-poster-reveal.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a></div>
she's grown tremendously in her career between movies, and also to the use of film as a medium. As I noticed re-watching/reading HP with Dani, movies do a better job at bringing out emotions. At showing the little details of the world because while reading you're focused on the main characters but movies can show you the small things you wouldn't notice/put in a book. Music, settings, they all help to create a mood that's hard to see in books (but then again, I tend to imagine things in ways similar to me. Unless a character is constantly said to be 18, I'm gonna think they're 26 like me.)<br />
<br />
The increasing darkness of the Hunger Games trilogy, of understanding the impacts of the power plays and intense situations, is something I can see more in the movies than books. I'm sure it plays no small part in me adding this series to the very short list of 'Movie Adaptations that are Better than the Books.'<br />
<br />
But back to the premier. A lot of my European classmates were excited because, well, cuz it's the Hunger Games. I sat next to a Venezuelan friend while waiting and why she loved the books just blew me away.<br />
<br />
Democracy.<br />
<br />
At its heart, you could say Collins's novels are about the mass uniting to challenge a corrupt government. As an American, I'm familiar with this. It's in my history. It's in the movies and books I see. To me, it's a troupe. There's nothing special.<br />
<br />
But to her, it was a model. An idea, motivation. Venezuela is having a lot of political problems right now (some of which is drastically affecting students here and if you want to <a href="http://www.gofundme.com/magiovacastro">find out more/help her</a>, please do so) and reading a book about a nation rallying together resonates with her a lot more than me.<br />
<br />
The idea, the themes, "this is what we want to do."<br />
<br />
I know SF/F has been used as allegories for social issues for ages and hey I've read some as such myself. But these things I take for granted - freedom to petition, to be heard, to be lead by who I want (other voters depending) - I never see them in the fiction I read. Or rather, I don't place as much as an importance on them as others. They aren't the 'meat' of the story.<br />
<br />
No wonder international markets really are huge for American media, they have this whole new understanding that's applicable as soon as they set down the book or walk out the door. I've always known books and films to be powerful, there are some that will never leave me too, but I've never thought about it in this way before. That it could inspire the mass.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://theantimedia.org/mockingjay-banned-in-thai-theaters-after-inspiring-real-life-dissent/" target="_blank">That it did in Thailand. </a><br />
<br />
Seeing thing from a new perspective...I love the sense of the world shifting and changing, the feeling that I suddenly got 100x smarter. I love learning, period. </div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-31776100456673174682014-11-17T20:23:00.002-08:002014-11-17T20:23:39.668-08:00This adventure brought to you by salsa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I promised adventures so....<br />
<br />
The other night I:<br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>was dipped and twirled, lifted up and spun</li>
<li>had my toes stepped on so often I'm surprised they didn't turn black and blue</li>
<li>lost my shoe a couple of times</li>
<li>twisted at least one ankle, but I'm thinking both and really need to get a thicker ace wrap</li>
<li>learned how to salsa</li>
<li>maybe networked? I've been telling people I'm an independent brand manager, some guy at the bar was interested in that and asked for my number. I thought he was just angling to get my digits so I gave him fake ones, but now I keep wondering if he seriously needed help with promotions and I just tossed an actual freelancing opportunity out the window :/</li>
<li>learned that you really had to have a good dance partner.</li>
<li>discovered it's hard to dance with a guy more than a little shorter than you (wasn't even wearing heels) and pretty much impossible to get dipped though the poor guy tried</li>
<li>got to practice my Spanish a little bit</li>
<li>had a ton of fun dancing at a place and in a style that wasn't as sexualized as my previous experiences and that was wonderful</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of my roomies, if you couldn't tell, dragged me out to a cigar bar that has salsa dancing Friday <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dZti1h14UBQ/VGrJoMkfW9I/AAAAAAAAAfM/2fungLQBYug/s1600/2014-11-15%2B01.02.47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dZti1h14UBQ/VGrJoMkfW9I/AAAAAAAAAfM/2fungLQBYug/s1600/2014-11-15%2B01.02.47.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
nights. At first I was really nervous, you're just supposed to ask/be asked by random guys to get on the dance floor? By people who all looked way more then a bit older than me (or maybe it's just my impressions, forgetting I'm 26 now and thinking I'm still the 23 year old who went to live in rural Africa. Probably didn't help that I only had a small make-up mirror that entire time).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have never felt more like a Millennial; I wanted to take out my phone and snap pictures, maybe take a video. But no one else was doing such a thing, so I didn't, and lo and behold old, short Latinos were asking me to dance and taught me a few basic steps and then the younger guys appeared and man there was some fast spinning. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've always liked dancing, but have never been huge on doing it in public cuz of incidents in clubs during undergrad and how things are so sexual among my generation. It's a bit uncomfortable. But this was fun, constantly switching partners and enjoying the music provided from a live band. You have good partners and bad ones (I had 50/50) but is was a good night, getting me out of my comfort zone and trying new things. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Will I go again, most likely. But probably not anytime soon because my ankles really need time to heal. And I need new shoes, comfy heels, but because it's so much easier to spin on a point.</div>
</div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-58138732330989117462014-11-13T08:21:00.002-08:002014-11-13T08:21:52.538-08:00Moving and Settling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I think I'm finally settling into my new apartment here in San Francisco. Which is amazing because moving is hard and doing it three times in three months pretty much killed me with a bunch of stress. Well, not the most recent move - I was so eager to get out of there.<br />
<br />
Still, it's surprising how much moving disrupts little routines. When I moved to my new place, I kept misplacing things because where I had gotten in the habit of putting them (table by the door) was no longer a viable option. Things had changed position, and it's funny to become of aware of how I was subconsciously setting up the kitchen. Spices were in the Ethiopia location. Condiments were placed where they are in my parents home. My bed is the same relative corner of the room as it was in Huruta, my bathroom stuff divided into drawers to match my childhood home.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vQZ8Qrt0ydE/VGTZyQ6dLtI/AAAAAAAAAMA/dkVe1ZZj3lg/s1600/2014-11-13%2B08.08.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vQZ8Qrt0ydE/VGTZyQ6dLtI/AAAAAAAAAMA/dkVe1ZZj3lg/s200/2014-11-13%2B08.08.58.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really like corner desks too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's kinda weird, I always assumed I would place things where they were easily accessible. Comparing what I was doing with small thing and what my new roomies were it was easy to see that what I saw as 'easily accessible' was actually just 'comfortable and familiar'.<br />
<br />
It reminded me about one of those PC manuals I got before leaving for Addis. It's the little disruptions in your routine that make you go crazy and tire you out, because routines exist so you don't have to use all your brain power. Activities are automatic. And then you disrupt that and you have to pay hyper attention to what you're doing and you're all volatile and you blow up at an Ethiopian child trying to hold your hand.<br />
<br />
Or in this case, try not to slam a cabinet door when you see that the spatula is in the knife drawer and harshly state the right place to a roomie.<br />
<br />
I did mention that Peace Corps taught me patience, right?<br />
<br />
Anyway - I feel like this is my first stable place in a while. Yeah, I was pretty comfortable in Huruta but I also knew it was only for two years. And yeah, I don't know enough about where I'll be in the next year to the point I'm worried about getting a magazine subscription (maybe I'll get a job in SF next Fall, maybe not). But still, I can decorate the walls. I can add personal touches. I can set things up the way I want to and not have to worry about having only one outlet in a room. I can do things I want to do I haven't been able for awhile - bake, take a long shower, buy vegetables other than tomatoes.<br />
<br />
Yet I want more. I want to start building up collections - I never truly got to replace all the books that where water damaged while I was at university. Where would I put all those books? Where would I put all the DVDs I want to buy, solid reminders of favorites and easy, big screen access to what I want to rewatch? Where can I put all the little items I want to collect, costume parts and baking pans and recipes and souvenirs? Not really here, but I'm gonna try anyway.<br />
<br />
This is my first real (American) place to do this. I'm excited. </div>
Jennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02777606275930092186noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-1814919019276315632014-10-16T10:51:00.002-07:002014-10-16T10:51:53.962-07:00Attending an International School<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
One of the things that attracted me to Hult was its international nature. This type of diversity is hard to find elsewhere. And yet, it's hard sometimes to remember that - are differences and issues a result of different cultures or just different personality types? But maybe that's just a result of living among habasha for 27 months.<br />
<br />
Anyway, there are issues with a international schools - and being an American in an international school's American campus - that I hadn't considered. So I bring you the pros and cons of that. And be very aware that readjusting to America plays a part.<br />
<br />
Pros<br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>English, English, English. I always knew it was the international language, but I've never really seen the advantage of it like this before. In Ethiopia, it was a skill that people wanted me to teach them. Here, it's a skill that helps me read and understand course chapters faster than classmates. It means I spend less time on essays and don't get points off for grammar - a huge benefit when classes are graded on a curve. It means in English taught classes I don't have a think delay.</li>
<li>I'm suddenly super active in class, because of the English advantage, and that helps me stick out in the minds of both my professors and fellow students. I don't speak up more than I did during under grad, but it's just harder for my classmates to do it.</li>
<li>Meeting new, interesting people. I'm learning about different cultures and building a bigger, international network that will only help me in the long run.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dh5YAYIdPww/VEAEcklAifI/AAAAAAAAAdw/o1cjvw85R7w/s1600/IMG_20141002_142838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dh5YAYIdPww/VEAEcklAifI/AAAAAAAAAdw/o1cjvw85R7w/s1600/IMG_20141002_142838.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Toolbox and Mod A team.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</li>
<li>Teamwork. Complicated teamwork because we have such different experiences and different outlooks on life and situations. I doubt I'll ever work on such diverse teams again once I have my degree. I mean, right now each of us if from a different country and while I'm positive I'll work on international teams in the future I'm pretty sure there'll be at least another American.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Cons</div>
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>As the sudden smart kid, I'm getting requests to help understand assignments and to proof read work. A little bit, I don't mind. But if I've never had a conversation with a person that's an issue. And sending me things late at night for an essay due the next morning? Also an issue. 11pm is my bed time. </li>
<li>Being American, I'm supposed to be the expert on American culture, slang, definitions, tech and a bunch of other stuff. Most people know I spent the last two years under a rock, but they don't understand the readjustment I have to go through. Classmates expect me to know things, like up and coming startups or news events. But I only rejoined this world two months ago. I don't know these things. Heck, I walked by an IHOP the other day and thought <i>I forgot those existed.</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><i> </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Being asked if something is an American standard half then time throws me for a loop, cuz I honestly don't know. But people expect me to.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Like attracts like. I saw this very often in Ethiopia when all the ferengis hung out together. You are naturally drawn to those who have similar backgrounds and struggles. Here at Hult, you'll see people bond over similar cultures and noting aspects of theses reflected here. A bar has a German beer that reminds you of home, or a tapas bar does things right. People bond over similar languages and cultural activities. (Not to mention visa issues) Latin people hang together. Scandinavian people hang together. Americans? I've meet two other ones. And neither of them have a shared issue of readjusting to America. After all, I might have been away for a while but I'm still American and am not visually having an issue. Finding my tribe is really, really hard.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Clashes between cultures. I thought it was interesting we have students from Ukraine and Russia, as well as Palestine and Israel, but that's not where clashes really happen. It's between cultures that view time differently, or different work ethics, or view actions as having different motivations. From my perspective, such things are odd more than a real issue (so far anyway), like how my Chinese roommate is very particular about arranging beds. They can't face the doorway or a mirror, a bit hard when one wall is a mirrored door closet. But having experience with other cultures is a huge help here.</span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">That being said, I'm super happy I'm here right now. Classes are interesting and practical, and of course a bit intimidating but I think that will all make me comfortable in my future job. If I had to do this over again, I'd still choose Hult, but I might have not gone so quickly from Peace Corps to grad school. Maybe travel a bit before heading back to the states, work at Target for a few months, and start at school a year after returning to America. I think I needed a bit more time to settle.</span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-47010243074979074132014-09-22T17:49:00.001-07:002014-09-22T17:49:41.463-07:00This adventure brough to you by the US Post office<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I figured I wouldn't be sending a whole lot of letters anymore, and certainly none for banking, but life apparently has a way of ripping plans to shreds. So today I found myself in the public library with recently printed documents to mail out and Google telling me the closest branch was two blocks away.<br />
<br />
Awesome.<br />
<br />
Except I walked in and saw a sign that said 'no stamps'. There was pretty much only po boxes and a customer service desk. But the lady behind the counter pointed me to an address down the street a block so off I went.<br />
<a href="http://stasarch.com/StastnyBrun_Architects/Comp-_Fed_Plaza_1_files/shapeimage_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://stasarch.com/StastnyBrun_Architects/Comp-_Fed_Plaza_1_files/shapeimage_1.jpg" height="178" width="200" /></a><br />
And found myself in front of the Philip Burton Federal Building. <br />
<br />
I remembered the little Chinese lady saying something like the post office being on a lower floor, and it was 20 min to five, so I took a chance and walked to the front door. I don't know what the doorman thought, dressed in his business suit and standing at parade rest, while I huffed in with two bags of textbooks I had just checked out.<br />
<br />
I wish I took pictures of this place, but I didn't know if that was allowed. I had to have my bags scanned, and then got chastised because unlike the airport where you just have to take you laptop out of your bag, here you have to take your cords out too. And your phone. And wallet. But he totally knew what he was viewing through the screen so why take it out? And I had to walk through a metal detector too. To go to the post office!<br />
<br />
I got directions (take the elevator down a level and follow the signs) and it was a little surreal walking into the elevator alcove and seeing a wall full of 'most wanted' profiles. And more so when the elevator doors opened and I was reminded of the basement levels of hospitals. I was staring at a vending machine and a sign for a freight elevator. The post office was down here? And a customs office?<br />
<br />
Honestly, I thought I was following directions for a store room and not a mail counter. But there it was, tucked past all these 'for authorized use' only swinging doors (that really might need more security for a federal building). Talk about the most depressive post office ever. Only one counter, and one worker, to sell stamps and sort incoming mail for the po boxes. No windows. And no pretty bubble wrap envelops for a bit of color. I'd go crazy in that environment. Or read a lot of books. I can't imagine many people actually step foot there a day.<br />
<br />
Leaving that place was just as weird, going from this gloomy environment to the nice open lobby above and then bright sunshine. And wa~ay to much effort for a two minute errand. I need to find a closer post office.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-18949107590998644232014-09-10T22:37:00.000-07:002014-09-10T22:37:00.294-07:00Interesting People<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last night, walking into the dining room of my boarding house, an old man called out to me due to my UofM sweatshirt. His name was Chuck, and apparently he had been deputy police commissioner in Detroit during the riots.<br />
<br />
He reminded of this guy I met named Ed.<br />
<br />
I meet him the summer of 2008 on Mackinac Island. At first he was just this old guy who taught me how to drive a horse drawn carriage and drilled the history of the island into my head.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lu9Ab_mfcfo/VBEb7ONQRiI/AAAAAAAAAco/cNBTks3HP_0/s1600/10399199_54302935286_6269_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lu9Ab_mfcfo/VBEb7ONQRiI/AAAAAAAAAco/cNBTks3HP_0/s1600/10399199_54302935286_6269_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what I learned in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ed was interesting because he had a glass eye, he had lost the original during the Korean war. (Or was it Vietnam? Phaw, doesn't really matter.) But then my fellow new carriage tour drivers and I kept learning more and more. Ed's teaching of us was a break from his normal job - bounty hunting. And not just petty people, mobsters who had skipped out on court dates because the pay was better. Ed mentioned how for most jobs he and his partner never went after the criminal, instead they went after the family for either information or to smoke out the crooks. Before he was a bounty hunter though, Ed had been a bodyguard. For Elvis. <br />
<br />
Ed's story fascinated me. At 19 I had never met some who had done such a number of cool things. And then I realized, I want that. I want the adventures and trips, the stories to tell people. I want someone down the road to believe something similar of me - that I'm an interesting person. It's enabled me to do a couple of things I might not have, such as whitewater rafting, climbing Mt. Chilalo, or paying a shepherd to get close to his camels for the following photo. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Should have tried to pet it too.</td></tr>
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<br />
Within the past 18 months, I've been told by two people that I've had an interesting life. And I guess I have - I've technically lived abroad twice, started and finished large scale projects, and have seen and done some amazing things. I have lots of stories to tell.<br />
<br />
But just having been in San Francisco for less than two weeks I already have more. The weird people I've seen on the street, the crazy amount of running through the city while we illegally park to complete a scavenger hunt, and running into people like Chuck.<br />
<br />
I started this blog to share my stories of Ethiopia. That part of my life, it's over. It's still a big part, a huge part considering how often it slips into conversations, but life moves on and I have new stories to live. I still want to share them, writing helps me think and it helps me connect with people. So look forward to those! But these adventures will be homegrown from the streets of San Francisco, not the dirt roads of Ethiopia, and probably less frequent (though I do now have more consistent Internet...). Still, I hope to see you all around.<br />
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-58883602094239306862014-08-30T08:04:00.000-07:002014-08-30T08:04:00.383-07:00I flap when cold apparently<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
One of the things I was good at before leaving was knowing what was going on. Local events, memes, new technology, emerging bands. I was <i>on </i>that. Coming back, sometimes it's odd because I expect to still be at the edge of that knowledge, and some other people expect me to be there. But instead, I staring at the google search page thinking, <i>where should I go?</i><br />
<br />
Regardless, I'm trying to hop on the band wagon as soon as possible which is why I had to do the ASL challenge.<br />
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Haha! I don't handle cold well. </div>
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I'll be back into the swing of knowing things soon, hopefully. Until then, I'm a little overwhelmed but having fun catching up.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-26226745288495539672014-08-14T18:06:00.002-07:002014-08-14T18:06:23.816-07:00The post-Ethiopian mindset<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, it's pushing three weeks since my return and I think I'm okay on American things and amenities (though I had to totally ask my sister to show me how to close the patio umbrella). But what I've been noticing more now is the mental changes.<br />
<br />
Case in point - Target trips. I left my sister with the cart to grab an extra anti-malarial. Due to confusion as to what this drug was, and how to get payment from PC, I was there awhile. Logically, my sister should have been done looking at the rugs I left her by and was hanging near the check-out/paying. <br />
<br />
But my logic works a lot differently than hers. I'm more in and out. <i>I need this, I look at only this, and if it's not there I'm gone. </i>My sister on the other was more <i>A rug for my room would be nice, this one is pretty, oh, so it that one, and are those shelves? I want some of those too. At the very least, those little stick on hooks. </i><i> </i><br />
<br />
I don't look at other items. I don't think, <i>oh, that's nice</i> or, <i>oh, that would be useful</i>. I'm a lot more practical. I used to walk into Target and meander the junior's section. Now I walk by without giving it much attention.<br />
<i> </i><br />
I know some of my fellow RPCVs find the choices at Target to be too overwhelming, one guy actually had to walk back out while his family finished shopping, and I wonder if I'm just blocking that out like I used to do all the verbal harassment I got. Too many choices for my mind to process - so it doesn't. Or I'm just really, really aware of what I need now and only go for that. I'm hesitant to call it thrifty, I threw money around in Ethiopia like I never did here, but it seems like it in comparison to my sister's habits.<br />
<br />
But I'm also finding my feelings towards people changing too. A bit ago it was 4pm and a guy asked me and my sis to join him and some friends in a game of pool, offering to cover our tab and order more drinks. I kept thinking he wanted something from me, a kiss, maybe more, or at the very least to stare at my butt while I line up a shot. He had to have some sort of ulterior motive. My sister just shook her head at me and said all he wanted is someone to pass time with, a bit of socializing.<br />
<br />
And true enough, we exchanged numbers (and I thought I learned how to say 'no' over there) and he's never called me. <br />
<br />
In Ethiopia, that guy would have called me at least three times by now in a local version of a booty call.<br />
<br />
Plus, consumerism. It's so odd, there's so much stuff everywhere that's not needed, and I find it kinda pitiful I know people with a laptop, smart phone, ipod, and tablet. But then I realize you kinda need things like that because if you don't have a smart phone you're laughed at, you miss e-mails and alerts because you don't flip open your HP every three hours that your boss requires you to keep up to date with. It's kinda crazy.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong, I like having the Internet at my fingertips and able to look up song lyrics whenever I want. But logging into Facebook every hour? Crazy. (And a regular blogging schedule? Even crazier! What new thing could possibly have happened in such a short period of time?)<br />
<br />
It's this thought adjustment that's starting to materialize that's really making me understand what sort of effect Ethiopia had on me. And I'm rather glad, because for awhile there I was worried at how easily I was moving back into being here. I wanted solid proof that I had spent two years in Huruta other than those random moments when I thought <i>I haven't had grass under my feet in ages!</i><br />
<br />
Wanting proof is also why I'm going to continue to roast and grind my own coffee on the stove.<i> </i><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-10641306816344249212014-07-31T04:43:00.001-07:002014-07-31T04:43:40.202-07:00Returning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last night, after roughly 30 hours of time spent in airports or airplanes, I slipped under the sheets of my bed in my parents home and immediately thought '<i>my bed is more comfortable</i>'. Never mind the fact that in Huruta I pretty much slept on thick foam and here in the States I have a spring mattress. It didn't feel like my bed, my home.<br />
<br />
And that was weird.<br />
<br />
All day yesterday, I pretty much hung out with my sister. We saw my grandma, who is now in assisted living. Did some grocery shopping, looked at phones (man do I need one), and talked. Ethiopia, obviously, came up in our conversations, but mainly as a comparison to our surroundings. Like the fact Panera is freezing because, hello, I haven't felt air conditioning in two year. <br />
<br />
But other than that, it's amazing how well I slipped back into American life. I put on clothes that have sat in my dresser for two years and they fit the same. I made breakfast, finding the cereal and milk in the usual spots. I did laundry, reaching for the Tide automatically.<br />
<br />
I think what was really weird was driving last night. I met up with my dad and sister for dinner, and they gave me a location like I'm a local '<i>it's on Trenton by Eureka</i>' and I just nodded and it wasn't until I was on my way out did I realize - I don't remember where that is. So I called my sister, got directions, and then...didn't follow them. It was like my body was on autopilot, taking me a different way, while at the same time I was hyper aware of speed limits, other cars, lights, the radio and <i>omg why are the wipers moving?! Wait, it's staring to rain?</i> Automatic things are a little weird and make me anxious.<br />
<br />
Driving made me realize I'm feeling that way a lot, that I'm slipping back into life but at the same time not. I know where things are, I know how things are done and what most social norms and cues are here. But I'm constantly amazed by them in my head (<i>podcasts actually downloading? cold milk? so much food in a store? a washing machine instead of buckets? decent shampoo and conditioner?</i> <i>traffic laws? more than three types of beer? more than a page of food choices, and they're ALL available to order? dimmer switches? does my family really need 4 cars? and so many plates and glasses? HD TV is beautiful. the network connects a call on the first try?)</i> and feel like I'm just blocking a lot of thought and dialog because saying all that aloud and just staring at the TV remotes (<i>why are there four?!</i>) is weird.<br />
<br />
When I went to Zambia, part of the amazingness was going with another PCV and just talking about things. <i>OMG look at all the asphalt. That's a stoplight! A mall!?</i> <i>I haven't even seen a Subway for a year, we're eating there.</i> She got the crazyiness, and it was good to get that out in the open, even if the people around us I'm sure thought we were a little bit strange.<br />
<br />
As it is now, not really able to voice that, I feel like I'm in this limbo status. On top of that, the few people I've seen have asked me about my time in Ethiopia and it's hard to know what to say. It's not a vacation where I can list my activities and gush over the food. It's my life. Was. Was my life. And what I think of as highlights might not be what other people would have labeled as such. My projects, sure, but even that first Timket when Dani made sure to take care of me, when I realized she wasn't just a landlady but a sister.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KOY5FBFVzZw/U9orT-cqMCI/AAAAAAAAAb8/M1XN6lbseDM/s1600/Adamaview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KOY5FBFVzZw/U9orT-cqMCI/AAAAAAAAAb8/M1XN6lbseDM/s1600/Adamaview.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe that time we trespassed for views...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I think what bothers me is this ability to slip back into America. I loved my time in Ethiopia, and just as I had to adjust to that I wanted to have an adjustment period back here that's a little rougher than it is, just to solidify the time I spent in Huruta. It was real, it happened, and now you see the world differently. I want proof of that other than the photos on my hard drive and my dyed hair. I want to see the difference in me, but it's always been hard to measure self change.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm just still in shock over the fact that I'm here with my family, finally. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-88581999558727018812014-07-25T12:40:00.001-07:002014-07-25T12:40:59.881-07:00Gonging Out<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Left Huruta a few days ago, and man that was harder and easier than I thought. Easier, because I totally didn't expect so little tears to fall when I gave Dani a hug goodbye (probably having to do with her pulling away quickly, saying 'no crying', and dabbing at her own eyes). Harder, because I didn't realize how attached I was until I realized that I had to leave site a full day earlier then I planned, with less than 24 hour notice. Time I expected to have with people (or places, I wanted to see the waterfall one last time) disappeared.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's all my experiences, or just me getting older, but the anxiety, expectation and other emotions about a big event don't hit me until they're in motion lately. For many habasha families I only realized just how much they made my time better and how much I'll miss them as I was giving goodbye hugs. And leaving an extra day apparently meant the mini dinner party Dani wanted to have in my honor didn't happen.<br />
<br />
But really, a last taste of Dani's shiro and bunna, one last conversation of laughs and knowing that she could relate to my feelings a bit from her own travels, was enough for me.<br />
<br />
Today was more goodbyes.<br />
<br />
PC had us all arrive in country together, but we leave separately. Come August people are leaving in groups of six, but this month of early leaving dates are set by grad school and other American issues. So I'm flying by myself on July 29th (2am flight, oh boy) but have spent most of this week doing paperwork and just hanging out with other PCVs who took off this night.<br />
<br />
I'm so glad I got to spend this extra time with them, as we were placed at opposite sides of the country and only saw each other at trainings after PST.<br />
<br />
As a group, we all gonged out this afternoon. It's a Peace Corp tradition some posts use, where PCVs are thanked for their service and we in turn get a chance to thank the staff. And then we ring a gong, one for each year of service symbolizing our change from Peace Corps Volunteer to Returned Peace Corps Volunteer.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6enU824vPjE/U9KvBCdHeWI/AAAAAAAAAbs/nPs_rYDwfYI/s1600/IMG_1569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6enU824vPjE/U9KvBCdHeWI/AAAAAAAAAbs/nPs_rYDwfYI/s1600/IMG_1569.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It's not a very elaborate ceremony, just a circle in the parking lot of the main office in Addis Ababa, but after not having a very official ending to my time in Huruta I really appreciated this one. It's something concrete, that finial goodbye, and symbol that something has finally ended instead of a murky ground of transition.<br />
<br />
I may be sticking around Addis for a few days yet, trying to spend all my birr and make sure my suitcases close and are within the weight limit, but I am officially done with my Peace Corps service.<br />
<br />
Pretty sure it'll hit me on the plane.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-72337563647060184162014-07-23T22:15:00.001-07:002014-07-23T22:15:17.292-07:00Huruta GLOW 2014 Video<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It took me ages to get this posted to Youtube, but here's highlights from this year's camp.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-21407160181438170802014-07-16T07:24:00.003-07:002014-07-16T07:24:52.559-07:00One Week Left at Site!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Next Wednesday, I'll be hopping on a bus and leaving Huruta forever. Well, hopefully not. People keep asking when I'll return and I don't know what to say. I have to finish my masters, then get a job, and save up money. People here keep telling me five years is enough time, but who knows.<br />
<br />
It doesn't quite feel real that I'm leaving, not yet, but I've noticed that as I get older and travel more. I don't anticipate and look forward to things as much. It didn't quite hit me that I was coming here till my mom dropped me off at the airport, and it didn't hit me how long 27 months was till I was sitting on my bed in my host family's house. I'm expecting things to be the same way here. I'm going around to houses for final meals and saying goodbye, giving away small things like extra spices, books, and kitchen supplies. Still doesn't feel like goodbye for a really long time. But I'll probably be holding back tears getting on the bus.<br />
<br />
I am however, very much aware of the following:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Things I'll Miss When I Return to America:</u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->My
wonderful landlady, Dani, and her entire family who welcomed me with open arms</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Yigibashal,
a teacher, and her daughter Beti, who were also a surrogate family.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Going
to a suk for bread, being told they're out, and then ordered to wait while they
bought some form a store around the corner to sell to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Wingdings 2';">ñ </span>Wynshit and her family, for feeding me lunch and bunna every time I stopped by and Mita, the compound child for amazing hugs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Visiting
a suk, oh maybe every three months, and having the owner ask after my
crocheting projects. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The
ability to skip lines, be served first, and allowed to do things others can't
because I'm a foreigner. As much as I want to be treated like those around me,
sometimes ferengi power is awesome. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->A
pretty high life style, relative to others around me. Most of the people I visit with don't have an
electric kettle. Or visit the bigger cities on a regular basis. Or hit up the
internet bet every week.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Bunna
ceremonies, shokola t'ibs, tagabeno and other yummy food.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Playing
soccer just to play. It got so competitive in the States.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Man,
the starry sky in my backyard is amazing.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Juice.
It's fresh here and oh so good. More like a smoothy than anything else.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>Things I Won't Miss When I Return to America:</u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Being
asked to personally sponsor programs because since I'm a foreigner I have lots
of money. I might be able to eat out more
that you, Mr. Youth and Sport Office, but my shoes are still holey and I don't
have that type of cash in my bank account.
Buy your own soccer ball.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Not
having a sink.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Days
of no power.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Doing
laundry by hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->The
creepy night noises, though to be fair I'm pretty friendly with the compound
mouse nowadays when he shows up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Confusion
about dates and times because everyone will use the same system in the States.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Roosters
in the latrine. Or roosters anywhere crowing all the time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Wingdings 2';">ñ</span>A lack of logical thinking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Getting
sandblasted by dirt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list .5in; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Wingdings 2"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Wingdings 2";">ñ<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->Being
stared at, all the time.</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-39263842322018650092014-06-17T02:45:00.001-07:002014-06-17T02:55:16.232-07:00June is karan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Karan</i> is the
Amharic word for crazy, and I can't think of anything better to use to describe
this month. <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first weekend was my local <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2010/08/04/peace-corps-camp-glow-girls-leading-our-world" target="_blank">Camp GLOW</a>. It's a PC
worldwide activity that stands for Girls Leading Our World and is a program
that focuses on teaching life skills.
For Huruta, I really specialize it and use it as a university prep camp.
<a href="http://allonsy-ethiopia.blogspot.com/2013/07/camps.html" target="_blank">Last year I invited 20 girls</a>, but this year it got expanded to 35 campers and
included boys and girls. So GLOW stood for Guiding the Leaders of Our World.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a hectic three days (that unexpectedly turned into
four with a student program that took hours to get started) that included human
knots, bus races down dirt roads, a field trip, and lots of nervous giggling.
But the last is to be expected when you introduce 12th graders to condoms and
pull out penile models.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I worked with a local counterpart, but also had other help
with individual sessions. A PCV from another town to teach safe sex to the boys
and a female health office to assist me. Recent grads who work for the
government to explain their time in university.
We taught them how to set goals, resist peer pressure, resolve group
conflict, how to stay healthy, and did a lot of leadership and communication
exercises. Originally we were going to visit a university to give the students
an idea what to expect when they start in the Fall, but plans had to change and
instead we visited a farm in Assella that focuses on sustainable farming. If I
wasn't leaving so soon, I'd try to make one of the solar ovens they have.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was great fun, and then this past weekend I went up to
Bekoji for a TOT (training of trainers) for a massive, week long camp that I'm
going to do with several other volunteers.
Schedule planning, rule making, checking out the facility. This camp will also be June, starting the 28th,
but with a younger target than my own. 8th graders, and all girls. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm looking forward to it, I loved doing the big camp last
year. Camps in general are great, I feel like I'm teaching skills that are
needed by everyone and for everything, not just something specific like tests
or preparing Ethiopians for the rare encounters they'd have with English
speakers. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then, back to Huruta on July 4th and then leaving it 20
days later! </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-349905413636806752014-06-08T08:19:00.000-07:002014-06-08T08:19:21.079-07:00Daenerys would be an awful Peace Corps Volunteer<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
PCVs have lots of free time and as such we consume a lot of
media. A country wide favorite? A Song
of Ice and Fire (or Game of Thrones if you discovered the show before the books). I read all the books early on in my service,
and now that season four is out am slowly devouring them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I have to say, <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="__DdeLink__2_831191386"></a>Daenerys
would be an awful Peace Corps Volunteer.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://abcblogs.abc.es/mon-suarez/files/2013/04/game-of-thrones-season-3-468x312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://abcblogs.abc.es/mon-suarez/files/2013/04/game-of-thrones-season-3-468x312.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seriously, marching into a city and forcing it to abide with
your personal views is just not how it goes. No wonder she has problems in
Meereen, even with an army at her back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Things here work slowly and many times invisibly. Especially
when you're not just hoping to teach kids how to read, but change a cultural
outlook. And even if you're looking to
teach technical skills, it still has to be done right in accordance with the
culture here. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For example, a full day training involves feeding people
here three times. Not just lunch. And if it's more than one day, you have to
have a closing ceremony and invite all these people who had very little to do
with the program just because they're important. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You get lots of headaches here. Not just because planning
things is a hassle but because it's hard to see if what you do has any impact.
Ethiopians never say when they don't understand something. So you do your post
assessments and learn that no one learned from you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or they learned something trivial, like 'torch' is UK lingo
for 'flashlight'. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Peace Corps tells us to look at the small things we do to
keep us sane. The kid who smiles when
you give him a book and settles down next to you to read it aloud. The girl who
enjoys your English club so much she brings a friend. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Throw a stone in a pond and watch the ripples grow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it always seems to escape notice that ripples are
temporary. They grow and spread out, but eventually disappear. I know my
milklady's son, who I've known from womb to walking, will forget me. I know the girls in my English club who
slowly started speaking out more and gaining confidence, will revert back when
surrounded by the Ethiopian culture that oppresses them. The girls on my soccer
team might remember how to do a give-and-go, and I'm pretty sure that my
teachers will remember my name only.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that's all kinda depressing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm leaving soon, 50 some days. Is all I'm leaving behind
memories of my face and name, a two year span of memory that says 'a foreigner
worked here for a while' ? Have I actually taught people lessons and skills
that they will still have in one year? Five?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to say yes.
That kids now have a better grasp of English, that they now know a bit
more about other cultures, that they have better self-esteem if they've
attended any of my GLOW camps. And all
that's probably, most likely true, so there's that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But Ethiopia isn't just where I work. It's where I live, and I
can't help but want to make life better for everyone here. To install ideas of gender equality, to show people how to analyze an issue to see where is the problem and how can it be fixed, to foster self-improvement. I want Ethiopia as a
whole to be better. Or maybe just
Huruta. My school. My compound family. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I'm not Daenerys, marching into a city and declaring all the
slaves are free. I can't change the
education system so that those in the teacher colleges aren't those who failed
10th grade. I can't make every child born get a birth certificate, so the 'must
be 18 to be married' law can be enforced. I can't force parents to have their
sons help their sisters with chores instead letting them play in the street. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It doesn't work that way. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wish it did.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, all I can do is live my life here. Teach small, easily digestible
skills, and live in a way that merges my culture with the Ethiopian one and hope some
of my progressive thoughts and actions serve as a model for those around me.
That yes women can go to a cafe alone. That yes they can say no to sexual
advances. That they can give orders to men. That reading is a good thing. That
one should always be doing something at work, not just skipping a lesson to
stand in line for sugar. That problems
shouldn't just be complained about, but solved. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe it works ( I hope so) or maybe it doesn't (as I
suspect).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Or maybe the end of my service had turned me maudlin.) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still, I'm glad I came and served. </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-66305731074027851352014-05-20T22:13:00.000-07:002014-05-20T22:13:07.672-07:00Toothless<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I am now the proud co-owner of
Toothless.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJ4uo6FgYlQ/U3wu2MV8cPI/AAAAAAAAAaU/dLhVNSMeBWs/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-26-20h59m53s170.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJ4uo6FgYlQ/U3wu2MV8cPI/AAAAAAAAAaU/dLhVNSMeBWs/s1600/vlcsnap-2014-01-26-20h59m53s170.png" height="132" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No, not that one. This one.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rfy-nmljVmc/U3wvHbZ2yOI/AAAAAAAAAac/HTjaMHJi5Mo/s1600/IMG_0644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rfy-nmljVmc/U3wvHbZ2yOI/AAAAAAAAAac/HTjaMHJi5Mo/s1600/IMG_0644.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have finally, finally, gotten my
hands on a kitten. The last time there was a batch, I knew three
families with kittens but they were all claimed by other people. And
so when a cat had kittens I made it very apparently to the daughter
that I wanted one before they even opened their eyes.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Getting Toothless home was an
interesting trial. There are no cat carriers here. So I wrapped her
in a piece of an old curtain. Gotta protect myself from all four sets
of claws! Beti insisted on carrying her as a sorta goodbye from her
house to the school and Toothless was rather reluctant to leave her
for her classes. She wasn't so happy with me when I took her. I got
several stares as Toothless climbed up my chest to my shoulder and
then when I tried to bring her back to my chest found myself holding
her around the middle over my shoulder with her claws not detaching
from my shirt.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Poor kitty. It was a good twenty minute
walk through strange, cold territory and the rain did not help at
all.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had a moment of panic when I stepped
into the compound. Originally I had been scheduled to take a calico
cat from Beti's family, but in the last week she's disappeared. So I
was given a black one and Dani freaked when she saw Toothless. She
wanted nothing to do with a black cat, saying she didn't like them.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
People here can be very set in their
ways and while I don't want to say superstitious, do believe in
absurd things.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was very worried Dani would tell me
to give Toothless back.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I took Toothless into my pair of
rooms and made some lunch, eggs to share, and eventually Dani came in
to see more of Toothless's body then a head sticking out from the
curtain wrap.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I'm pre-writing this, Toothless is
sleeping on the top of Dani's couch, so I think they'll get along
well despite first impressions. I'm glad. I'll be away for a while
to start the process of leaving (med appointments and trainings on
what needs to be done before I hop on the plane) and it will be good
for Dani to have some company.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can't help but liken Toothless's
process of getting used to the compound to my similar one of getting
used to Huruta. There's the
<i>oh-yes-the-traveling-is-over-let's-explore</i> phase. Followed by
the pitiful mewlings that come with the
<i>I'm-so-far-away-from-everyone-and-can't-talk-to-them-and-can't-stop-crying</i>
phase. And then you turn all lethargic as you hit the
<i>I'm-depressed-and-have-no-one-to-talk-to-and-don't-want-to-visit-this-new-world</i>
phase. I spent a weekend laying on a couch or my bed with a book,
not talking to Dani and Tadeck at all. Toothless just sleeps
everywhere. Yes, she's a cat, but she was always more active at her
house when I was over.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still, she'll get over it. I did.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It's kinda funny how the process works
in reverse too. The first three months are the hard because family
and friends are always on your mind. The last three months are hard
too because again you're thinking of your family and friends back
home (though with anticipation this time, but you still can't call to
bounce giddy beams off each other) and the ones you've adopted here
(and it's a million times harder than saying goodbye to your mom at
the airport cuz I knew I'd see her in 27 months but when will I ever
see Dani and everyone else here again?).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can't wait to go home, yet at the
same time don't want to think about it because there's still much to
do here. I have camps I'm planning, a few more English club lessons,
and a trip to Harrar. I don't want to think of America, cuz then I
wouldn't really be <i>here</i> and I have to be for the next three
months. It's my last chance to experience it all, to commit things
to memory and try to describe perfectly the smell of rain as it fills
my house or to record the birds outside my window. And yet I have to
think of America cuz I gotta find a house for grad school before I
actually leave this country.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Nothing, apparently, is easy.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unless you're Toothless because then
people just bring food and stoke your back all day. Ah, the life.
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-3927220934404708272014-05-04T03:22:00.005-07:002014-05-04T03:22:36.795-07:00X,Y,Z as promised! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>X - Xeric </b><br />
<br />
Yes, I had to look in the dictionary for today. I'm sure many others did too.<br />
<br />
Xeric means a dry environment, and Ethiopia definitely has some of those. The northern parts
are reminiscent of the American Southwest, complete with rock formations, dry air, limited
rain, and lots of Christmas tourists. There was a volunteer there who went six months without
water at her site.<br />
<br />
Which is why when asked what type of site I wanted during my training, I totally said I want
one near water.
Huruta might be surrounded by rivers (only one of which doesn't dry up) and not be very far
from a series of lakes (Ziway being the closest and man is the fish there tasty), but it does
also butt up against the Great Rift Valley. 9 km to the northwest, the town Dera sits in the
valley. As does the city Adama/Nazerat (depending on the language).<br />
<br />
It's usually crazy hot when I visit Adama, but there's also ice cream, fans, and a hotel with a
pool. Not to mention American hamburgers, supermarkets, and wifi in hotel rooms. Not a bad
place.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MnX8fha9f8o/U2YTd7MY9UI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/mAAqwNEfuRw/s1600/IMG_6182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MnX8fha9f8o/U2YTd7MY9UI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/mAAqwNEfuRw/s1600/IMG_6182.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Y- You </b><br />
<br />
In the States, shouting 'you' at someone usually gets ignored. It's rude, and is pointless if you
want to get someone's attention. Names are much better.<br />
<br />
Not here. You, or rather anta/anci for male and female is a common form of address. And if
there needs to be more a more specific address it can be amended to anta (name) or anci
ferengi. People like to shout the last one to me a lot, meaning you foreigner.
Again, not very polite in English but in Amharic it's the norm.<br />
<br />
It took me forever to teach the local children I only respond to hi, hello, are you fine?, and
good morning/afternoon. And my name of course. Correctly pronounced, cuz that's a sure
sign I actually know the person and they didn't just pick it up.<br />
<br />
<b>Z- Zenab</b><br />
<br />
Zenab means rain, and we're just getting into the rainy season here. There's technically two,
a light one that hits in April/May and then we get roughly two to three weeks of dryness until
the big rainy season hits and it lasts pretty much through to September. I'm talking lots of
rain, with dirt roads becoming muddy rivers and hours of it every day.<br />
<br />
In Eteya, where I did my training, whole intersections would be flooded into ponds large
enough where if frozen kids could ice skate. Aka bigger than my entire compound.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vSOPAPPUrJA/U2YUDxBd6SI/AAAAAAAAAaE/3gn2nvuYrvI/s1600/IMG_5576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vSOPAPPUrJA/U2YUDxBd6SI/AAAAAAAAAaE/3gn2nvuYrvI/s1600/IMG_5576.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Huruta's a good place though, its on top of a hill surrounded by three rivers so all the water
goes there instead of staying around to creating boot sucking mud, impassible crossroads,
and mosquito breeding farms.
Two of the rivers, including the waterfall, dry up around Christmas so this is when they start
rushing again. Which means locals taking river baths and stretching sheets out to try on
rocks.<br />
<br />
The rainy season is the coldest season of the year and so a lot of locals refer to it as winter to
me in English. Of course, Ethiopia is in the northern hemisphere so technically it's summer,
but Ethiopia is a strange, unique country who just does things it's own way.<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm not complaining.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-3364814906478250882014-04-30T06:57:00.001-07:002014-04-30T06:57:25.823-07:00X,Y,Z<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Are coming, I swear! Power outages and then a public computer that doesn't have word and so fills my post with Wingdings, and an ill working Google Docs as a back up, are preventing you from learning about Ethiopia and I deeply apologize for that.<br />
<br />
In the mean time, in joy a photo of me in somewhat typical getup. Umbrella for sun, back pack full of school supplies for English supplies. The speaker is new, but I didn't feel like packing it and so just let it play while I walked home. Wearable boomboxes. It didn't gather as much attention as I thought it would.<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3353819717914761148.post-16048556653461554692014-04-26T05:48:00.000-07:002014-04-26T05:48:00.666-07:00W is for Water<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After several times were either the water doesn't come or the power is out, I have determined I'd rather be without power than without water. <br />
<br />
Huruta's pretty lucky. The town is surrounded by rivers and while most of them dry up in the dry season one still runs. We usually have water, and if it does disappear it's never been more than a week. I've gotten pretty good at rationing and limiting my use. I can make ten liters last while, even with washing dishes and a few pieces of laundry.<br />
<br />
It not uncommon for my compound to not get water 24/7, especially during the dry season but that time of year in the early mornings and evenings the faucet usually gurgles enough to fill our buckets. Even if, like we had to do for awhile like last month, the water only came around 4 am and we had to be awake to get it.
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12106399041059595196noreply@blogger.com3